


If we could change yesterday, today would never be the same

by Silvyavan



Series: Future vision [1]
Category: Dolly Kill Kill (Manga)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Pre-Apocalypse, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 22:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14628477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvyavan/pseuds/Silvyavan
Summary: Banira had been used to horrors that came with an apocalypse that was chock full of giant dolls. There's a lot. Mobilization, abolished governments, scavenging, human experiments.Time travel hadn't been one of them. (Or in which Banira gets stuck almost 70 years in the past and tries to work through this with a heavy heart.)





	If we could change yesterday, today would never be the same

Banira is used to oddities. The apocalypse is chock full of them. Especially when you're living in fear of giant walking dolls of all thinks. This, however, takes the cake.

She blinked awake in a room she doesn't know. A stray light from outside the window wakes her. The room is dark.

Last thing she remembered was getting busted out from the hypnosis in Osaka-

Hypnosis. Is she still hypnotized? Did they fail?

Flexing her hand, rolling in the bed, she realized that she has full control of her body. She sighed. So it was probably a success. Good. The bed is creaky and itchy and the room is hardly decorated. Stray boxes littered the corners of her room, some large, some small.

She got up from the bed and realized that the bed was less of a bed and more of a two duvet sandwich. Huh, you'd think there would at least be a mattress.

She was wearing a nightgown with long loose sleeves that ended a little below her knees.

Getting up from the bed, she saw a stray piece of paper on the table. Walking over to the table she saw the contents of it.

May 10th.  
1942.

Banira stumbled as the piece of paper fluttered to the floor. 1942? Last time she checked, she was in 2015. Hell, she wasn't even born in the middle of the twentieth century, much less lived in it. Was she someone else? Maybe, or did she actually go back in time? Before getting experimented on, before the apocalypse, before Trial and Error, before everything.

She stumbled back to the bed, suddenly losing all strength in her legs. She couldn't stop shaking.

That was- wow. Some part of her mind wondered as to why and how, but a question racks her mind before she can ask.

Didn't Sekka's parents die the Second World War?

They did. She didn't exactly take her time swimming in his memories, but she got the gist of it. Childhood, the War, the bombing, grieving and then Madoka comes slithering into his life. But that's not what matters, the bombing, however, does.

She thinks. No bombing means Sekka's parents don't die. If they don't die, Sekka's ideology and living status stays in one place. If Sekka never meets Madoka, the apocalypse never happens in the 21st century.

It was sort of a double edged sword. On one hand, humanity won't be shrunk down to a little over seven thousand people or so and nothing bad happens to Sakamaki's wife and daughter and the hundreds of other people in Trial and Error who have lost their family. Sensei would actually get married with the person she loved and her comrades would still be alive. Iruma and Ren wouldn't have had to experience such horrors. Which is good.

But then there's Namekata, who'll be stuck in the control of his nut job mother, there's Sunny, who'll be stuck as a normal bear, there's Tsunashi who'll never meet Tamari. And she'll never meet the people that she had grown to love. She might not even live till then though. She could probably meet their parents and grandparents but minus that, Banira Yuu will never be someone to them.

And yet. Here she stood, almost seventy or so years in the past, holding a decision that could change everything she knew.

Would it be truly worth it? Would this single change help her friends, even if it hurts her and a few others. Do the lives of millions outweigh the desire of the heart?

But what is the happiness of her heart compared to the happiness of her beloved? Nothing, she thinks to herself. Perhaps, perhaps if she had gone to Sekka's parents, warned them about the bombing and made sure they'd stay alive. If that were to happen, nobody would be dead. Minus herself, but time is something she can't fight.

She slipped into the duvets, mind uneasy about what would happen tomorrow or next week. She tried falling asleep but it seemed she would have to wait till she was too tired. Her mind just couldn't stop jumping to conclusions. Where was she in the first place? Why were there boxes everywhere? Was she even in her own body?

After a sluggish morning, she decided to check whatever place she had landed into. She was in Japan, judging by the language of the ripped out calendar paper.

Unfortunately, upon opening the door, she was met with cold wind and only half a house to walk in. The view from the second floor showed a town, with houses just as demolished if not more. The only sound that went by was the fluttering of her nightgown and the wind.

She was in a house. An empty house and in the distance was a very, very deserted town. A very familiar town.

Sekka's town. She woke up near the ruins of his town. She was too late the minute she got there.

But maybe the bombing couldn't have avoided. What needed to be avoided was Sekka's beginning, if she could even call it that.

The cold was making her shiver, nightgown flowing as a cold gust of wind chimed. She wouldn't last a minute in this weather, she needed a coat in the very least.

* * *

  
The boxes had been stacked to the brim with coats as turned out. Perhaps she was some sort of support nurse, there to tend for survivors? Who knew, she might not even be sure if this was her body.

Unfortunately, there was no sign of shoes anywhere. So she was stuck walking barefoot in this wasteland.

Deciding to act brave, she went out of her room again, wrapped in a black fur coat with another coat I hand. She had recognized the coat as Sekka's, the Sekka that had doomed the world. Hopefully, this coat would be worn by someone of smarter choice, clearer mind and better judgement.

Banira had been walking for twelve minutes now and she could feel the pain in her feet slowly grow. If everything went well, she'd have to find a doctor, or even the bare minimum of healthcare.

But that didn't stop the dread from growing. With every step she walked, she had to chalk up the urge to pick up the pace. Maybe she was paranoid.

But what if she wasn't? She knew that trusting your gut and instincts was favorable, but the apocalypse had promptly took that knowledge and ripped it apart piece by piece. The apocalypse was less "trust your heart" and more "trust the facts".

But this wasn't the apocalypse, this much she knew. Yet her nerves were pumping adrenaline with every step she took.

She didn't realize she was running until her throat began to burn and the soles of her feet ached.

But yet she simply carried on. Running to a broken town, to a broken heart, hopefully to fix something. Anything.

A crouched silhouette was starting to seem more and more detailed. The silhouette of a child.

Sekka. She's not too late. Not yet. The further she moved, the more blood pooled at her footprints. No point in hesitating now.

But maybe, a part of her stayed in that house, hoping to go back to the reality she was used to.


End file.
